


How Tasty Was My Little Englishman

by BakurasPlayMate



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakurasPlayMate/pseuds/BakurasPlayMate
Summary: Demons rule the earth after their victory over the heavens. They pillage, they maim, and they take what they please. The Dark Overlord Bakura rules over this onslaught with an iron fist with his second in command. However, once something of true value is put up for grabs, tensions rise as they fight for control over a little Englishman. Tendershipping Euroshipping. Please read the warnings! Dark themes ahead.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Kaiba Seto, Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura, Brief Mai / Seto, Kujaku Mai | Mai Valentine/Mazaki Anzu | Tea Gardner, Marik Ishtar/Yami Marik, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	1. When Heaven Fell

The world has crumbled. Buildings have fallen, streets have been destroyed and the sky has turned into a permanent blanket of darkness since Hell’s Legion of Lucifer had triumphed over the Heavenly Battalion of Christ. Throughout the years the war seemed to have no end in sight, that was until the Overlord took command. He believed that Hell’s military tactics were weak. They were demons; it was time they fought like it. The Overlord called off all organized strategies in favor of new ferocious, erratic attacks. It made them less predictable and gave them the advantage they needed to gain the upper hand.

The Messengers of God never saw them coming. 

The lands were now covered in corpses. The once heroic angels that helped to protect the word of God and defend the lives of the innocent were now in flames as the demons torched all that was left of what was once good and holy. They took great pleasure in watching the wings burn; this was mainly because when the fire met with the feathers, the most beautiful shades and hues erupted. It was truly a sight. Although the sight was pleasing, the smell of burning flesh was what pushed the demons over the edge. The intoxicating smell of their heavenly enemies catching flame was to put it simply, erotic.

As the lower ranking demons spread their leathery wings to patrol across the land, he sat on his throne, smirking. The Overlord was a sight to behold. His alabaster hair stuck out erratically and fell past his shoulders as his bangs draped over his eyes. His face, ever seductive, held no trace of stress from the Eternal War. As he sat his long, slim body relaxed for he had nothing to fear, not anymore. His fangs peaked out from under his lips and his eyes glowed with the most hypnotic shade of red as one of his human slaves danced for him. His eyes followed her as she curved in a rhythmic motion in hopes that she would please the satanic overlord and in turn, he would spare her life at least for another day. As he watched her, he took notice of her anxiety. He knew what she feared and it was the trepidation that pleased him. He loved to see the weak squirm under his all power gaze. 

Next to the Overlord sat his right hand, General Seto Kaiba. The General was also known for his cold demeanor, however where the Overlord would partake in the enjoyment of slaughtering his enemies, the General showed no emotion, his face mocking the stillness of stone save for his occasional smirk when the mortals begged. He found it entertaining. He had short brunette hair and his eyes the most piercing shade of blue. Rumor had it that his eyes could look into the very soul of his prey and bring forth their deepest fears. One of the enemy angels tried to rid this threat by attempting to slay the powerful General. The demon received an everlasting scar over his right eye, and the angel was quickly disposed of. The still demon’s build was similar to that of the Overlord, however he was slightly taller and more muscular. This helped in terrifying his enemies and gave him an advantage in overpowering human captives for his superior. He lived to please his king.

The young woman continued to dance as the ruler watched with hungry eyes. The twists and turns of her body were tempting the hellish king like a cat and a dangling thread, and he was ready to pounce. He slowly rose from his skull throne, applauding the young lady as his court followed suit. The young woman stopped dancing and quickly bowed to her captor.

“You are a marvelous dancer, human. I wonder what else you can do.” He said as she looked at him, petrified on the spot. Her eyes grew wide as she wondered what the meaning was behind his words. The demon lord raised his hand, and beckoned for her to take place in front of him. She made her way slowly, nearly tripping over her own feet until she was under the wicked stare of her captor. He grinned.

“You really are beautiful,” he said as he brought his hand to the trembling girl’s cheek, “I bet you taste as good as you look.” His sharpened claws quickly scored her face and she shrieked. Survival instincts took over as she tried to run. Sadly a mere human has no chance against the swiftness of a demon. He grabbed her arm and with a sickening crack she went down as the king sunk his teeth into her warm flesh. Bleeding and broken the young woman screamed for help, but her cries went unheard for in the castle of the Demon Overlord, there is no mercy for the good. All acts of kindness never went unpunished, as the only law was that of what Lucifer had put in place.

The girl went quiet, blood pooled around her as her pulse slowed and quickly diminished. The white haired king raised his head in pure ecstasy, blood falling from the corners of his mouth, his deep red eyes heavy lidded as he regained control of himself. He looked around at his court with an evil smile as he stood and went back to his throne. As he sat down the General turned his head and leaned in as close as he could to the demon ruler. 

“Master Bakura, if you keep feasting on your slaves there won’t be any left to entertain you.”

“That is a risk I am willing to take. I have waited for years to taste the blood of the living and now that there is no one who can stop me, I will drink my fill.” He laughed maniacally. 

“My Lord, at your rate of consumption, there won’t be any humans left.”

“Now, now. There is no need to exaggerate, Seto. There are plenty of humans in this world and each and every one of them is under my command. They are cowering, too petrified ever since I slayed their only protector.” Bakura looked up to his trophy. It was placed above his throne, a single set of angel wings, in between them, facing down, was a silver handled sword with a blue tinted blade. The detailing on this handle included an elaborate engraving of a dragon with sapphire eyes. The dragon was facing upward as if flying towards the light of heaven. This was a symbol of power. The dragon, a majestic creature flying to the warmth of heaven, asking to be accepted by the light of God, it made the Overlord sick. The owner of this particular sword and wings had been the biggest thorn in Bakura’s side. Had…

The archangel Atem was the most powerful figure in the Heavenly Battalion of Christ. He was tall, slender, his eyes were full of confidence, yet soft to promote a sense of welcoming to all. He was kind and willing to give up his own life to protect the innocence of the human race. It was Bakura’s sheer pleasure to annihilate this angelic nuisance. He ripped the wings off Atem’s bloodied back once he was caught. His screams were music to the Overlord’s ears and he felt the heartbeat of his enemy fade and extinguish. It was a day Bakura will treasure for the rest of his immortal life. 

“With the angels gone and heaven destroyed, these mortals have nothing to look forward to after death. They are slowly starting to realize that this is their life, and when they die, they will continue to serve Lucifer in Hell for all eternity.” His sharpened teeth glowed in the light of the crimson moon and he grinned at the thought of the tragic fate of the mortals. 

“Agreed, Master Bakura. But now with the battle won, we need to plan ahead. What would you like me to focus on next?” Blue eyes stared emptily as his king sat and pondered.

“I require a new slave. After that, I want you to finish the plans for the construction of our temple for Lucifer. We need to recruit workers to get the construction under way and if they refuse, kill them. There is no room for those who refuse the will of Lucifer.” Bakura sat with his leg propped up on the arm of his throne. The Temple of Lucifer would be Bakura’s crown jewel of his reign. The image of this immaculate cathedral had been in his head since he was crowned king and it would be the ultimate tribute to the dark one, the one who bestowed upon Bakura his wretched powers. In Bakura’s mind, it was the least he could do.

“Consider it done, Your Majesty. I’ll leave at once to pick your entertainment and while I’m at it I’ll recruit a few workers for the building process. As it currently stands the plans have been completed and the resources have been collected.”

“I knew I could count on you, Seto. Out of all the years you have served me, not once have you disappointed me. Let’s just hope that streak continues.” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” With that, Kaiba bowed to his superior and briskly walked out of the grand throne room where Bakura stood, his gaze on his most valued trophy. 

Kaiba’s steps were deafening as he stormed down the halls of the vast castle, making his way to the soldiers’ quarters. Once there he kicked the door open, capturing every last soldiers’ attention. Instantaneously they rose, their eyes on their general, awaiting his orders.

“I want all of you to grab your horses. Our Overlord wants us to see to it that we have workers for the construction of the temple. If they refuse, kill them.” The soldiers grinned and laughed amongst themselves. This was going to be a fun task after all.

“Let’s move.” With that the room burst into a sea of excitement as the soldiers sang their praises, grabbing their swords and arrows, and running to the stables to grab their horses. Kaiba watched with stone cold eyes as the demons prepped for the night's work. Tonight, there will be blood for demons don’t ask, they take. The weak will be butchered, the heretics will be made an example of, and the city will be burned, all in the name of Lucifer. 

Kaiba smirked to himself. For the name of Lucifer? He had seen the fallen angel and truth be told, he wasn’t impressed. Kaiba always wondered why Bakura never claimed all control. The King was the strongest, the most destructive, and the most bloodthirsty. He believed that Bakura was brainwashed into doing a weak demon’s bidding. Either way, it wasn’t Lucifer that Kaiba was afraid of. If you insult the name of the dark one, you must answer to the Overlord, and that wasn’t something that he had desire to partake in. 

Being pulled from his thoughts by the anxious shouts of his followers, Kaiba picked up his sword, mounted his horse, and led the reckless demons into the cold, never-ending night.


	2. The Most Intriguing Angel that Wasn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The General goes off with his men into the night in order to find laborers to build the King's cathedral, but in his quest he finds something of significant value. Something he can't just leave behind.

Kaiba rode through the streets of the unfortunate village while his men laid waste to everything that stood in their way. With swords drawn they let their presence be known, crushing fences, shattering windows and setting houses ablaze. All this in order to chase the humans out of hiding and force them into servitude for the Overlord. It was either that or death. As the soldiers dismounted to seek out those few who sought solace in their homes, there were screams in all directions from those who were less fortunate to keep hidden. Torn from their families and thrown into the streets, they were forced into compliance by the threatening advances from the demons.

A squadron of demons looked over the weaklings gathered together, taking count of how many they had while making note of their condition. They needed able-bodied individuals to help build the cathedral; those who were not fit would only hinder their progress, which meant they needed to be disposed of. Only the best for their king. 

While the audit was taking place one of the humans turned and his emerald eyes gazed those around him. Men, women, and children were huddled together tightly, hands fastened together as if in prayer. Weak, defenseless, and overpowered by these demonic creatures all the humans could do was stand in fear and wonder about what fate awaited them. It’s not like they could ask for divine intervention, there was no one left to pray to. 

He turned to the man on his right, head hung low so his hair covered his face masking his actions. 

“Tristan, are you still with me?” he said in a whisper, just loud enough so only the other could hear. The brunet slowly nodded his head awaiting the signal. It was now or never. Even if it gave the group only a slight chance of escaping, he would gladly give his life to save the others. After all, it was the least he could do for his fellow man. 

The other let out a deep breath as they both prepared themselves. Three of the soldiers stood together on their left discussing their numbers, to their right was one soldier, eyes piercing into the crowd daring them to step out of line. Behind them was a line of horses, herding the humans together, making sure they stayed close. They had a plan, rush into the group of three to cause a distraction. Tristan, using his strength, would ram into the three while Duke would swoop in behind him, grabbing the knife that hung from the belt of one of the fallen soldiers. From there, they would use themselves as bait, causing enough of a commotion to focus all of the attention on themselves, giving the others a chance to scatter. It would need to be done quickly with zero hesitation. This may be the only chance that they had. 

“Duke, I’m ready when you are.” Emerald eyes shot forward, filled with determination. This was it. He shifted his stance, ready to run.

“N--!” His voice cut out abruptly. 

Raven locks fell, floating to the ground. His mouth agape in shock as his mind struggled to comprehend what had happened. A clean cut as wide as a thread became visible across his neck; blood trickled slowly at first, and then overflowed cascading down his chest staining his clothes. His stance faltered, falling onto his knees. The tremors from the fall rattled through his body, dislodging his head from the fine divide that was made by the General’s sword. As his body hit the ground there were shrieks of horror from the bystanders as the head rolled until it settled against Tristan’s feet. His eyes went wide as he stared into the lifeless orbs of his dearly departed comrade. He slowly lifted his gaze to the one in charge, still seated upon his horse taking a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the shining steel. 

“I find myself at a loss,” he said, cleaning off the blade and pocketing the cloth, “that with all of what you humans have seen and endured you still have a gull to pull something as pathetic as this. This worthless attempt at an escape; have you forgotten who you are dealing with?”

The other soldiers stood silent as the remaining herd huddled together closely, their despair made known as the General’s icy glare glossed over the crowd. They settled upon Tristan and his brow furrowed. The weaker of the two staggered backward as the demon leaned forward, ever so slightly. 

“Did you forget that we could hear your pitiful whispers? Or is it that you just chose to ignore that fact so you could send your friend here to an early grave?” The human said nothing as he lowered his gaze to the ground. Tears welled up, threatening to pour at the thought that it was because of him that his dear friend was murdered. He should have known that this plan would fail, but he couldn’t help but hold out hope. Sapphire eyes glistened as he could feel the mournfulness radiate off of the one below him. He smirked. 

“I should kill you for pulling a stunt like that, but I don’t think I will.” He sheathed his sword and sat upright on his steed. Tristan didn’t dare move. “You seem to be able-bodied and we need laborers like you for our venture. But so help me,” he said as his eyes bore into the other, ”try one more move like that again and I will hunt you down and slaughter you personally.” 

With that the General lifted his head and pulled on the reins, his stallion heading his instruction and trotted away, leaving the group to the lower ranking soldiers. 

As his men gathered additional slaves to work on His Majesty’s project, Kaiba’s mighty steed maintained a long, leisurely pace as his wandering eyes searched for the one who would become the Overlord’s next toy. With every passing house Kaiba’s voice boomed, causing frightened villagers to come running to not anger the statuesque demon lest suffer the consequences. As the mortals came out into the streets they presented themselves. Kaiba was first to examine the lot, he needed to be sure that the one chosen was fit for the almighty ruler. If none of the cattle met his standards, then Kaiba’s men would take over the task of inspecting them for labor. So far they have recruited over one hundred mortals for the job of building the temple. Kaiba could only wish he had as much luck. Each and every household they crossed only produced pathetic offerings. They were average, disgusting and worthless. Although Bakura’s philosophy was that a slave was a slave, Kaiba wanted to find at least one human that his King could enjoy for more than a couple of hours. 

They had been riding for most of the night and the majority of the village was lit up in flames. Kaiba looked at their haul and although he failed to find a suitable slave for his King, he was willing to call it quits for the night. It was apparent that his men were starting to get bored, killing more citizens than they were recruiting in order to keep themselves entertained. He decided to make the call.

“Alright men, it’s time we head back to the castle. I believe that we have gotten a fair amount for the night. We will continue the search tomorrow when the moon is new.” His men nodded and grunted their compliance as they all mounted their horses. The humans that were captured were huddled in a group, chained and scared of what was to come. Most were battered and bruised after taking beatings from the ruthless demons while others were lucky enough to evade the cruelty. They dragged their feet in the direction of the castle, passing piles of burning wood and ash that was once their homes. They had nothing left for them here, and all that awaited them at the castle was never ending servitude. 

Kaiba decided to take a position in the back of the group just in case one of the new peons decided to run off. After an uneventful evening he was almost hoping for another one of the weaklings to try and flee. Truth be told the little stunt that the black haired nothing pulled was the highlight of his night. Of course after that display his little friend made no disruptions. Seemed to him that he learned his lesson quickly. Kaiba did prefer a slave that was a quick learner. 

As Kaiba lingered in his thoughts, a rustle in the bushes snapped him back into the present. His piercing eyes scanned hungrily over the field as his horse came to a stop. The others were laughing and talking amongst themselves, patting themselves on the back for a job well done. ‘Morons,’ he thought as he looked around. It only took a moment before his men noticed that their commander was not keeping pace. They stopped in their tracks, looking curiously as to what made their leader stop.

Then, there it was again. The noise was quiet, but not quiet enough to be an expert in veiling. It was a prey creature for sure, but it was clumsy. From the sounds of it there was fear in its movements. The General raised his head and inhaled through his nose. He lowered his head and smiled devilishly. 

“Move along men. We’ll converge back at the castle. There is just a loose end I need to tie up.” The men nodded in understanding and started moving. It wasn’t until the party was out of sight before Kaiba climbed off of his stallion. Lifting his head and inhaling deeply, he needed to find the source of that scent. It was so innocent and full of life, with a hint of… vanilla? Impossible, only angels were known to smell as sweet and they had all been eradicated. The Overlord made sure of that in order to remove any chance of a future threat. As far as they were concerned, they had succeeded in their onslaught, but here the scent was, clear as day. He paused, focusing on where the trail was leading him.

“Ahhh… there you are.” With a flash his mighty wings erupted from his back. They were vast, approximately twenty feet in length and leather in texture as demons’ wings are. What stood Kaiba’s wings apart from the others was that his were white which always glowed in the moonlight. While in flight to the untrained eye one would think an angel was descending, more like an angel of death. Regardless, he never much cared for the comparison. His wings were also very powerful, being able to knock anything several feet back by the mere gust they created and able to pierce through any material, flesh or otherwise. They were just as deadly as they were beautiful. 

He kicked off of the earth and saw it, the rustle of bushes. Whatever was hiding in the thicket it knew that the demon was on the hunt, and that he was hot on its trail. The movement stopped suddenly and all was still. Kaiba’s well-trained eyes stayed in the spot where the movement ceased. He waited for a short moment, the wind blowing softly rustling his chestnut hair, bangs brushing over his eyes briefly until his prey shot off in one direction and the demon quickly took chase. With a heavy gust of wind, the almighty demon dove and pinned the helpless being to the ground. 

His teeth were bared, his eyes wide with the thrill of the chase and the anticipation of unmasking his game. His long pointed nails dug harshly into the arms of his prey, holding him down atop the dirt and grass. A soft gasp and small whimpers came from the one who was captured. Just as the excitement of the catch came, it disappeared just as fast and morphed into curiosity as he looked at what lay pinned beneath him.

It was a boy, nineteen years of age by the looks of it. His hair was long and shown white under the light of the moon. His eyes were wide, paralyzed with fear and the color of melted chocolate. His skin was soft, pale, his body thin, trembling under the weight of the demon that restrained him. Kaiba’s eyes narrowed at the panicked boy as he leaned in closer.

“Did you really think you could get away from me?” The demon spoke softly, nearly a whisper. The young one shook harder now, unable to speak as the demon’s breath brushed lightly against his cheek. 

“That’s what I thought.” Kaiba got up and grabbed the boy by the neck, lifting him into the air. With one swing of his arm, he clawed the boy’s shirt clean off. The young one was thrown hard to the ground, face first. He yelped as he slammed into the dirt, putting his arms in front of him in order to help soften the blow. His hair fluttered around him, covering the sides of his face and splayed out on his back. He tried to lift himself to make an escape, but the demon was quicker. Straddling the boy so he couldn’t move, he grazed his fingers across his back, moving the snowy locks off to the side. The sensation sent chills up the smaller’s spine due to the sensation. His breaths came in hiccups, but he dare not move or speak, lest he be killed. 

The General removed his hand and gazed upon the younger’s back. It was… blank. ‘Curious.’ Kaiba thought, as he looked closer, moving his hand up and down the boy’s unmarked back. There was nothing there, no marks, no indentations, no nothing. 

‘How strange,’ Kaiba thought as he leaned down further closer to the boy, placing his nose in the crook of his neck. He inhaled and sure enough, the scent of vanilla was there. It overtook his senses, made his pupils dilate and eyelids flutter. That was an angel’s scent, a sweet calling card that helped them attract a mate. Demons didn’t necessarily have a need for this type of adaptation as they had a tendency to take whomever they pleased. This confused Kaiba even more and he pulled back, still straddling the boy keeping him pinned down. His senses were screaming angel, but there were no marks of angel wings on him. ‘How is this possible? All angels have these markings, and there is no mistaking this type of scent.’

Needless to say, Kaiba was perplexed. He was proud of his tracking abilities, quickly being able to identify the enemy was a valuable skill set in times of war. It granted him the advantage to weed out any of those who posed as allies, snuffing out potential threats of being overtaken from the inside. Never had his instincts steered him wrong, but here this creature lay; no wings, a clear lack of magical ability, no attempt to defend himself and frightened beyond belief. This human, this boy, was very interesting. 

Kaiba looked him down one more time, the wheels in his head turning. He slowly got off of his knees onto his haunches, his hand gliding along the smaller’s spine as he stood up to his full height. The young boy whimpered from the touch and sudden lack of warmth. He lay there sprawled on the ground face down waiting for the demon’s next move. 

“Well boy, consider this your lucky day.” His eyes shifted their gaze from the boy toward the Demon King’s fortress. “I’m not going to kill you, no, instead I’m going to take you to the castle to have an audience with His Majesty.” The statement jarred the boy from his silence. He lifted his body from the dirt and turned facing the taller in a kneeling position. His hands were on the ground in front of him keeping him upright, chin lifted in order to meet the eyes of the one who captured him. They pleaded. 

“No, please, I can’t go there! Anywhere but there!” He spoke softly, yet his words were quick and full of panic. Kaiba picked up on the desperation in the boy’s voice. He wasn’t surprised; most mortals would rather die than seek an audience with the King, especially one as fragile looking as the one who kneel before him. It wasn’t sympathy that he felt for the boy it was merely a fact. From the look in his eyes he knew that a cruel fate awaited him if he were to go into that palace, and he would do anything to get out of it including begging. How boring. 

Sapphire eyes narrowed dangerously, Kaiba never did like it when weaker beings pleaded for their lives. That appealed more to the King’s fancy; he did love those who threw themselves to his feet, offering everything they had for their lives to be spared. It catered to his ego seeing droves of peons begging him for amnesty, which they would never receive. He would sit there; legs crossed fangs bared in a menacing grin as they addressed him by every title, hailed him and sang his praises. It never mattered; he would have his way with them and dispose of what was left. To Kaiba it got old fast hearing all of their enemies say the same things over and over again. They had to have known that they would die and there was no way out, why not go with dignity? No, they never did. Pleading was what it had always come to and with that, Kaiba would never see them as true threats or deserving of any type of respect. They would always be nothing more than free labor and amusement for the demons. 

“There is no use pleading to me, weakling.” His voice was calm and that unnerved the boy. He knew who this demon was from the color of his wings and the scar above his eye; and knew of the power he held. General Seto Kaiba, though no one dared to address him by name other than the King. There was no way out of this and the boy knew it. 

“I-I meant no disrespect, My Lord,“ He pulled himself off of the ground and bowed to the demon, still shaking. “But if I go into that castle, I fear there will be no chance of me surviving the night.” He folded his hands together in front of his chest in an effort to calm his trembling. Tears welled up threatening to overflow but he did his best to hold them back. As scared as he was his tears were useless; demons were known for their apathy. Kaiba’s unrelenting gaze bore into white locks as his head was still tilted downward in a bow. 

“So it would seem.” The boy’s breathing faltered and his eyes widened as tears slowly began to shed. This was lunacy, how could he have been so careless to get himself caught? Was this truly his destiny, to die by the hands of a ruthless tyrant? He didn’t even want to think about the how, but he was sure that there would be pain. He shook his head slightly, not going unnoticed by the general. 

“Is death the only thing that awaits me?” The general turned his head slightly away from the boy. Honestly, that was the most likely scenario. He would take him back to the castle, hand him over to his Overlord and within due time his corpse would be disposed of. This had been the cycle for some time now, but Kaiba couldn't help but wonder about the intriguing nature of the boy. That scent was nothing to scoff at, and he was sure that the King would notice immediately. Maybe that alone would help prolong his life, at least until Kaiba could get to the bottom of this. 

“Perhaps, but that decision is not left to me.” He shifted back while the smaller lifted his head to look into the demon’s azure eyes. “I will be taking you with me to the castle where you will be subjugated by His Highness. What that entails will be up to his discretion. If death is what he wants for you, then yes, it is all that awaits you.” Tears flowed from his eyes and he once again averted his gaze from Kaiba. 

“By going with you, is there honestly no way for me to live through this?” 

“Again, that is not for me to decide. However if you want to live long enough to even step foot inside the castle, I strongly encourage you to obey me.” There was a weak nod of understanding as he shifted his stance, his hands still held together pressed into himself as if to grant him the courage he so greatly needed. 

‘Good,’ Kaiba thought as he turned away, folding his wings back, ‘At least he’s a fast learner. Now, let’s get this over with.’

The General brought his hand to his mouth and beckoned his mighty steed, which quickly appeared at his side. The boy was suddenly pulled up by the nape of his neck and thrown onto the back of Kaiba’s horse. He yelped due to surprise as Kaiba mounted the horse behind him. Slender hands firmly grasped the reigns as his arms rested on either side of the unfortunate boy effectively locking him in place. With a swift kick to the side the horse bellowed and took off into a full gallop. Chocolate eyes were focused on the destination, towering over the horizon. The palace would be his gallows, the King his executioner. He shuddered at the terrifying thought mixed with the brisk air that grazed his face and ruffled his hair. No one ever made it out of that castle alive, and as his home shrunk further and further into the distance behind him, he realized that his fate had indeed been sealed. 

Within the confines of his fortress, His Majesty Bakura stood on his balcony overlooking his newly acquired kingdom. It was made of the most majestic black marble with veins of silver weaving throughout, intertwining giving life to the darkened stone. Crimson bore from demon’s sockets, beholding the sight of the early morning sunrise. He had been up all night, as was expected. His kind prospered at night and worked best under the veil of darkness. It wasn’t that the sun hurt them, but rather there was an unspoken rule; The Heavens controlled the day, Hell controlled the night. He smirked, not that it mattered anymore. It was all his now. 

With a deep breath he took in the early morning air into his lungs and exhaled contently. He could taste the ashes let loose by the burning village off in the distance. He could even see the orange hue off in the horizon where it smoldered. Or was that the sunrise? It didn’t matter; the entire world was on fire to him. He inhaled deeply again, this time through his nose taking in the scent of burning corpses. He could see it now in his mind’s eye. Flesh ablaze, scorching men, women and children; all of whom were bereft of life. It was spectacular. It was his Wonderland and he was the King of Hearts; the mortals’ heads were going to roll.

The sun began to peak off in the distance as Bakura turned around to make his way back inside his chamber, turning only to close the thick cardinal drapes. Even if the sun didn’t bother him, it still caused annoying memories. He hated the warmth it brought, reminding him of those who had previously occupied it’s golden rays. They were gone, every single one however it seemed that the sun mocked him. He was reminded of Atem’s last words.

“You will never rid of us, Bakura! So hear me when the darkness falters, the light will break through. Your victory is only temporary, like the night that shrouds you and your kind. A new day will dawn and you will know defeat.”

The prophecy that Atem had spoken haunted the Overlord, and the rising sun was a constant reminder that what the archangel had said might possibly come to pass. Not wanting to take the risk he ordered every demon to venture out into the night, to seek and destroy all remaining angels regardless of rank. They were to leave no remnants left in their wake. If what Atem said was a threat, it was now an empty one. 

He leisurely made his way down the lengthy hallways, all of which were outlined with golden trim, darkened columns reaching up to the high ceilings. The walls themselves were covered in velvety wallpaper adorned with plentiful portraits of past military leaders, high officials, and ending with a portrayal of Lucifer himself. Long drapes blocked out the light from every window, lit sconces were the only things that illuminated the corridors with their flickering flames. There were statues of gargoyles, demons, and creatures of all other sorts that acted as watchmen for the castle walkways, the King found them quite becoming. 

Bakura made his way towards his library, the heels of his boots clacking against the stone flooring reverberating off the walls around him. Now that the land was his he needed to plan his next course of action. Yes the more immediate thing was for the temple to be built to show his power and undying allegiance to The Dark One, but he needed to think beyond that. The world was his for the taking, but what was next? The thought was buzzing around in his head, so much so that he almost didn’t notice the approaching guard.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed to show his respect, “His General has made his way back and requests an audience with you.” The King looked at his guard and rolled his eyes with a sneer.

“Very well.” The guard saluted his king and went on his way as the Demon Lord made his way to the throne room. Looking into his next steps would have to wait. 

Inside the throne room stood Kaiba. Alone he looked out of place amongst the black, gold and red adornments. The ceilings were high; candelabras illuminated the room as an iron chandelier hung above lit with large candles, wax pouring downward as they burned. Kaiba knew he always seemed out of place, his blue eyes, chestnut hair and alabaster wings were not common for demons, at least not in these parts. Although, he should be grateful, it was these features that gained him audience with the Overlord in the first place and boosted his rise to power. The glacial stare contrasted wonderfully with the scorching fire that burned within Bakura, and the King couldn’t help but pull him in. He would never admit to it publicly, but it was the most intense night Kaiba had ever experienced in his immortal life. 

He glanced around the room, lost in thought until his eyes met His Highness’ trophy. He was sick of the wings; their novelty had worn off from his perspective. As fun as it was in the beginning to see the archangel’s wings torn and nailed to a wall, it was becoming an eyesore. No, his attention was caught on the marvelous weapon that was prominently displayed between them. The tined blade, sharpened to perfection reflected the flames that lit up the room. His eyes pulled upward to the cross-guard, elegantly crafted and decorated with intricate designs ending with diamonds set at the end of either side. The grip was lovingly engraved with a design of the body and wings of fearsome dragon wrapping around providing grip and support. The head of the dragon was also the pommel, mouth agape displaying the creature’s pointed teeth. Imbedded in the eye sockets were two sapphire stones that sparkled brilliantly, truly a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. 

Kaiba had seen this weapon in action when it’s previous owner was still living. In the hands of a trained swordsman it was as deadly as it was beautiful. It also had miraculous power. Being that it was handcrafted from Heaven and Hell; it held terrifying potential. This weapon had the ability to destroy any spiritual being. Merely defeating these supernatural creatures without such a tool only banished them whence they came, stripped of their powers, living just like mortals trapped in their respective planes. But this weapon, this weapon destroyed everything, body, mind and soul. Being struck by this weapon meant utter and total annihilation.

The demon was brought out of his daze by the sound of someone approaching. He turned swiftly and bowed as Bakura entered the room. 

“This better be worth my while, Seto. The sun is rising and there are matters I need to attend to. Speaking of which, I would like to discuss next steps with you. After this temple is built I would like to venture outside our jurisdiction and proceed to the other prefectures.” The Overlord made his way past the bowing demon, over to his throne where he sat down, legs crossed, arms draped on the armrests. He looked distracted, but Kaiba did not dare to bring attention to it. 

“Always looking toward the future, Your Majesty.” He said as he stood straight, one arm behind his back, other settling near his side. 

“Of course, Seto. Do you expect power to be maintained while being complacent? Absolutely not, you should know that best of all, General.” Crimson looked down harshly. He was annoyed, Kaiba could tell. Without a way to relieve tension the King was quick to lash out. Just like a child.

“Naturally, Your Majesty. I would be honored to assist in your plans. However, there is something I would like to address. As you know, your health and well-being are my top priority. Upon my quest to find you suitable entertainment I have uncovered quite the little treasure. I believe that you will be glad you came down.” Bakura’s eyes rose in inquiry and his posture shifted. His elbow placed on the armrest, knuckles placed under his chin in intrigue. 

“Is that so? Well then, I would like to see what you have procured for me.”

Kaiba clapped his hands together, signaling for the guards to bring forth his gift to His Highness. Two muscular demons came storming into the throne room, in between them was a body being held up and dragged by the arms. Thin legs tried their best to keep up with the pace dictated by those pulling him, but it was clear he was struggling. On his head was a velvety black veil to conceal his features until necessary. It was plain to see that the body was of a boy; a small, terrified human boy. Bakura smirked as he lifted his brows.

“A boy this time? Well, this is certainly welcome, Seto. I do enjoy mixing things up a little especially since that last few females have been, to put it lightly, disappointing. But why the…” He paused. That smell. He knew that smell, but there was no possible way… 

He killed them all. He made sure that his men went out and eradicated every last one, no angel would have been able to escape their wrath. His eyes grew wide and flashed with fury. Atem’s words played in his head and within an instant he stood tall, wings spread and fangs bared. 

“What is the meaning of this, Kaiba?! Where did you find him, and how did he remain undetected for so long?!” Kaiba exhaled calmly, looking at his King. He was expecting this kind of reaction from him, but deep down he knew the King was just as curious as he was. He needed to act quickly before the new toy’s head rolled. 

“Your Highness, I too thought this was an angel at first, but upon further inspection I believe him to be human.” Bakura looked flabbergasted. 

“You believe him to be human? Do you hear yourself? You focus on your senses and tell me that this isn't the scent of a heavenly being! I have lived fighting on this damned earth for centuries and not once have I come across a human that smelled like this.” He made his way to the covered boy. Swiftly his clawed hand rose as he grabbed the veil that sheltered the younger one’s face from view. Fisting the cloth he tore it off of the boy’s head and dropped it to the floor. White feathered locks fell gracefully over the boy’s soft, delicate face. Wide chocolate eyes open slowly, adjusting to the lit room as they focused on the taller white haired demon. Burgundy met mahogany and the Demon King’s features twisted into a look that was unfamiliar to the General.

“State your name and race.” The boy stood scared, arms held tightly by the demon guards. He swallowed hard, gaining as much courage as he could muster. This was the infamous Demon King, he was sure of it. He had heard stories told within his village of the powerful being. He stood tall, his ivory mane cascading down his back protruding in all directions, wings larger than life and darker than the deepest shade of obsidian. The eyes were just as the villagers described, it was like looking into hellfire. 

“M-my name is R-Ryou, and I am a h-human.” Bakura scoffed which caused the boy to flinch. 

“Of course you are. You just so happen to share similar features to angels, am I right? And I suppose it’s merely coincidence that you also possess a particular scent that is only found commonly amongst angels?” His eyes narrowed viciously and he paced around the boy. He nodded to the two guards who let go of his arms, effectively dropping him. Ryou managed to catch his footing thus preventing himself from toppling to the floor. While regaining his balance he wrapped his arms around his chest, gently rubbing the places where he was so harshly held. The Monarch’s gaze never left him as he started to ring around the boy, like a vulture circling its feast. “Let me ask you, do you know what the punishment is for angels posing as humans and infiltrating our domain?” Bakura didn’t give the young one a chance to respond.

“We decapitate them. It isn’t swift either. We pin them down, grabbing their head like this.” He took a fist full of the smaller boy’s hair jerking his head backward, leaving his neck exposed. He came in quick with a small dagger and placed it right below the Adam’s apple. “Then we cut into them, dragging out each laceration to cause as much pain as possible. Once the head comes off we then take it and put it on display as a warning to others who think themselves wise to try something similar. Now I ask you one more time, little one.” The knife dug sharply into his neck causing a trickle of blood to flow alongside his collarbone and down his chest. The Demon King positioned his face closely to the boy, lips barely touching his earlobe. “State your race.” He whispered harshly. 

His eyes were ferocious and little Ryou couldn’t stop his body from shaking. He hadn’t the slightest idea of what was going on. How had this happened? All he was doing was taking a walk to get some fruit for his family, and the next thing he knew the demons attacked the village, burning down everything in their wake. He was found, chased and then taken by the General no less. And now he was accused of being an angel and threatened with beheading? His amber eyes shifted their way to cautiously gaze at the King, praying that they conveyed the truth that he knew in his heart.

“Y-your Highness,” He said as calmly as he could despite his terror. “I swear to you, I am not an angel. I am human!” Bakura had heard enough. He shoved the young one onto the ground and with a mighty kick, knocked the air out of the boy. Ryou laid there, arms covering his midsection as he gasped for air, tears cascading down his cheeks. The pain was extraordinary; nothing like Ryou had ever felt before. He knew demons possessed tremendous amounts of strength, but he had never been so unfortunate to have to bear the burden of it. The moan of agony that was released from the slave’s mouth once his breath was caught was alluring. Bakura stopped and stared down at the mound of flesh that lay before him. His fair skin was dirty from the capture Bakura was sure. His hair, though tangled from the rough handling, fell around him like a glowing halo. His eyes were watered, squinting in pain from the assault. All of this and yet the creature didn’t fight back. Not only that, but if this creature really was an angel his wounds would have already been healing from the kick he gave him. Instead, he found that a bruise was already beginning to form on his delicate stomach. The boy heaved, face shifted downward to avoid looking at the King directly, his tears running down his cheeks pooling onto the floor. The King found an evil grin forming on his sharp, handsome features. 

The lack of defiance and the ease of submission excited Bakura. He could be easily taken over and controlled; which is what the King liked most in his toys. His mind couldn’t help but go back to the issue at hand though. The scent. There was no mistaking it, there was something angelic about him, whether he was aware of it or not. Little Ryou intrigued the King. If he was human, then there was something special about him and it was up to Bakura to figure out what it was, and keep it all for himself. But first, he needed to break the boy to make sure he would submit entirely. He couldn’t have his new prize run off now could he? 

“Well, if that’s the case then welcome to my domain, and to your prison. You will never leave this place.” He knelt down next to Ryou, grasping the boy’s chin and lifting his head up so they were looking eye to eye. 

“You will come whenever I call you, do as I command, and if you don’t you will be severely punished. However, if you are a good little boy,” his fingers softly caressed the boy’s cheek, “I promise I won't inflict too much damage on you… Of course, I never really was a man of my word.” He grinned his Cheshire grin and looked at the whimpering boy that lay on the ground before getting up himself. He could hardly wait to sink his teeth into that milky white skin. 

“If death awaits m-me, then why not k-kill me now?” The boy lifted himself off the ground to lie on his side, facing the King. His body hurt and he needed to take some of the pressure off. With timid eyes he awaited the King’s answer. He was granted a vicious smirk, fangs protruding. 

“Oh little dove, there are worse things than death. And if I wanted our fun to end this early, you would have already been disposed of.” He turned on his heels and snapped his clawed fingers. The doors opened and two individuals ran in. From the looks of their clothes they seemed to be enslaved to the Monarch as well. Judging by the scars and bruises, he assumed they were human like him. 

“Ah! Good. Take him upstairs and ready him. These disgusting peasant clothes need to be discarded and he needs to be put into something more, enticing. It is getting late and I would like a companion for the night.” The two slaves nodded silently and helped the small boy up off of the floor. Ryou had a moment of panic, what did he mean by enticing? And companion, he couldn’t possibly mean... Before he could say anything the two already were ushering him out of the room, the two soldiers in tow. Bakura looked after them, smirking while he shifted his attention toward his next in command. 

“Seto, fantastic work in finding him! Just when I think there is nothing else out there to hold my attention, there you go exceeding all of my expectations. He’s submissive, soft, and looks truly delicious. His innocence exudes off of him and I can’t wait to tear into it.” He looked at his clawed hands imagining them digging into soft, pale skin and watching the blood flow. The imagery was getting him excited; he needed to get himself under control for the time being. He glanced at his General “Unfortunately Seto, I still am weary about the scent.” Kaiba agreed.

“I wish to look into the matter further. If he isn’t one of the enemy, then I believe we have uncovered something else entirely.”

“Do you think this is something we should be worried about?”

“With him? No. He can barely speak in the presence of a demon without tripping over his words, Your Highness. Besides, if there is even the smallest hint of a threat, I’m sure you’ll stomp it out before he even realizes it’s there.” Bakura nodded his head in agreement. 

“Good, good. Well, if you’ll excuse me my dear friend, I think I shall retire to my bedchamber. I have a brand new toy that I am quite anxious to play with.” He turned on his heel and with a mighty pace left the throne room leaving Kaiba to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a deeper dive into this chapter to flesh out more of the story. With how long this one took to edit I'm sure the other chapters are going to take significantly longer to fix, but trust me, it will be worth it! Let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear your feedback. Thanks!


	3. Into the Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryou is taken away to be prepped for his first night with the Demon King.
> 
> TW: There is Sexual Abuse in this chapter once Ryou enters the King's Chambers. If you don't wish to read, please feel free to skip that section and proceed to the last paragraph.

Despite the situation he found himself in, he couldn’t help but be awestruck by the overwhelming opulence of the Demon King’s home. Never in his life had he seen such dark beauty, the intricately carved pillars, the chandeliers that clung to the high ceilings, and the looming arches that framed the passageways to even more menacing parts of the castle. All of these conveyed vast wealth and power that Ryou could never have imagined. 

He lived his entire life within the small village in a modest 2-bedroom home with his father, his mother and sister long gone before the war took its toll on the town. His family wasn’t anywhere near well off, but they made do with what they had and what they had was each other. That was until the accident, he was so young when they were taken from him. He recalled how grief stricken his father had become after the loss and his heart sank. Even after all of these years the pain never left and Ryou’s heart ached. 

‘I hope you’re doing well, father. It doesn’t seem like I’ll be coming home after all.’

Lost in thought Ryou was silent throughout the seemingly endless journey through the corridors. He hadn’t the faintest idea where these two men were taking him yet he kept his eyes open looking for markers in an attempt to build a map of the place in his mind. The task proved to be difficult as the further in they went the more everything started to look similar. Black, gold and red were the colors of choice for the Demon King it seemed and he flaunted them proudly. The red reminded him of the massacre back at the village, how it ran from the veins of his fellow men and seeped into the dirt underneath. He shook his head to get rid of the scene from his memory. Was he going to be continuously plagued by these gore-ridden visions? How long was he supposed to suffer, he wondered. 

In an attempt to keep his mind occupied on the present and put an end to the prying memories, he diverted his attention to focus on the two lads that were leading him through this hellish labyrinth. 

The two servants looked to be young adults based on build, possibly close to Ryou’s age. One was clearly shorter than the other but he held himself in a way that projected maturity. They had impeccable posture as they guided him, backs straight, heads held up staring directly in front of them as they took each stride with purpose. This was in vast contrast to Ryou’s posture, who after taking notice of the two dawned on him that he was walking with a slouch, head shifting everywhere but forward.

The taller of the two was fit and muscular, but not overwhelmingly so. His skin was exquisitely tan, darker than anything Ryou had seen around his village and it contrasted beautifully with the golden armbands that were securely fastened on his forearms. His blond shaggy hair rained down and stopped in between his shoulder blades; it swayed with each step he took, lightly brushing the scars of what looked like an intricate design that decorated his back. His waist was trim and long, trailing down to his hips which were hugged by what looked like a gilded belt. Attached to the belt was a kilt-like garment that Ryou had sworn he had seen in one of his old history books, a shendyt he believed it was called. It was black in color and stopped right around his knees, leaving his calves exposed which were also decorated in golden jewelry. His feet were bare and softly padded the ground where they walked, silent and swift, almost as if he were gliding. 

The smaller of the two was in stark contrast to the first. He was smaller with a slight feminine build. His skin was a pale white; almost to the shade that Ryou was but ever so slightly darker. His hair was a marvel and very familiar to Ryou. It was tri-color, ebony locks that were tipped in magenta. Although he was facing forward and he couldn’t see his face, he was able to see the tips of golden bangs protruding from either side of his head above his ears. The shade was off, but his hair almost looked exactly like… ‘No,’ Ryou thought as he continuously studied the boy in front of him, ‘it’s just a coincidence.’

He wore the same uniform as the taller that made him wonder if this was the standard look for those in servitude to the King. Not that Ryou complained; he found his cheeks flush as he watched the muscles of the two boys flex with every movement they made. They were both very beautiful in their own individual way and it was no wonder to him why they were here serving the King and still kept alive. 

Suddenly the two stopped in their tracks, which forced Ryou to pull himself out of his thoughts. He almost toppled into the two before catching his footing after the abrupt halt. Letting out a light exhale of relief he lifted his head to inspect the very large set of double doors that towered in front of him. They were heavy and similar to the rest of the décor found throughout the castle, accented with gold and carved with intricate sculptures of demonic entities that were unknown to Ryou. The taller of the two grabbed one of the ornate handles and with some effort pushed the left door open. It groaned as it revealed the dwellings inside. 

The first thing that caught Ryou’s attention was the large in-ground bath that lay in the middle of the elaborate chamber. The bath was lined with the ever-familiar black marble that coated many of the surfaces of this place. The water that filled the pool rippled and sparkled in the sunlight that broke through the translucent purple curtains, which made the silver seams in the marble dance underneath the water’s surface. 

Surrounding the perimeter of the bath were dark crushed velvet pillows in a pigment not that far off from the color of eggplants, edged with shimmering twisted rope and golden tassels. They accented the furniture that was placed throughout the corners of the room which were the same material as the cushions, although rimmed with lavish metalwork and stood on clawed feet. Near the sofa was a changing screen that was partially obscured by the piece of cloth that was draped over its corner. Resting atop of one of the cushions were folded fluffy towels that fit the theme of the room, presumably to be used once he was finished with his bath so he wouldn’t have to face the brisk morning air that crept through the room’s opening to the outside world, caressing the curtains and carrying the blanket of steam that hovered over the water’s surface. 

Hidden amongst the décor there had been incense burning, filling the room with a heavy scent of Dragon’s Blood. The musky perfume permeated Ryou’s senses and he could feel his eyelids getting heavy as his body became more relaxed. There was the feeling of someone’s hand on the small of his back, ushering him forward toward the opulent pool of heated water. He lazily walked toward it and stopped once his feet hit the soft pillows. Gentle hands made their way around his waist, down to his hips and rested at the waistband of his trousers. Feeling comfortable Ryou found himself leaning into the touch until he felt a tug, pulling them down off of his hips. He gasped, knocked out of his haze and put his hands on top of the other’s, putting a stop to the undressing. 

Ryou’s clouded eyes became focused as he looked into amethyst orbs. His face was flawless and radiated an innocence that he never thought possible, framed by those golden bangs that looked of lightning. Long lashes gave the illusion of femininity as they lightly brushed the tops of his cheeks with every blink. All of this beauty and yet reflected in his gemstone eyes was… nothing. Ryou was taken aback by the soullessness; he was looking into the eyes of someone completely and utterly broken. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said while keeping his grasp on the other’s hand, “but what is going on here? I assure you I am capable of undressing and bathing myself.” He looked to the shorter for any helpful explanation. The other just looked onward as he removed his hands from Ryou’s hold and crossed them over his chest. 

“I implore you, just let us do what we need to do quickly before they come looking for you.” He advanced again, reaching out as Ryou once again took a timid step back, eyes widened. 

“And what is it that you need to do? I don’t see the point in you undressing me. I told you I can wash myself, I don’t need assistance. Please, just let me be!” He took a couple of steps backward until his back hit something soft yet sturdy. Two tanned hands wrapped their fingers gently around his upper arms and Ryou gasped lightly, quickly turning his head behind him. He was greeted with the most tranquil shade of lavender accentuated by charcoal markings that lined his waterline and tapered off right above his cheekbones. He wore a small yet comforting smile but it did little to calm his nerves. 

Despite the humidity of the room Ryou couldn’t help but shiver. Between the defeated demeanor of the boy in front and the calming nature of the one behind, he didn’t know how to respond to what was happening. Should he be frightened of what was to come? Or be comforted by the strong arms he suddenly found himself in? He slowly shook and bowed his head, thoughts jumbled as he was brought back to the present by a curtain of blond locks coming into the right side of his peripheral vision. The taller of the two nuzzled into his white mane, rubbing his hands up and down thin arms. What would have normally been perceived as a reassuring gesture under normal circumstances only terrified and confused Ryou more. 

“I was told that I would be placed into servitude to the Demon King, and that I would be his companion for the night.” The caresses on his arms hesitated for a brief moment until they continued on in their soothing fashion. “Does that mean what I think it means?” 

The blond released his hold and circled his way in front of the frightened boy, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb under a chocolate colored eye. 

“I’m afraid it’s exactly what you’re fearing. All of His Majesty’s nightly conquests are brought here to be cleaned and prepared to his liking. We will bathe you, dress you, and take you to him.” His hand slid down lightly brushing the pale cheek as he turned and made his way to the bath. Kneeling down on the plush cushions, he beckoned Ryou to come join him. Not wanting to cause trouble he slowly made his way closer, stopping when instructed to do so. The other made his way over to Ryou, placing his hands on the waistband of his pants once again attempting to undress him. Ryou’s eyes darted from amethyst to lavender, hands once again jumping from his sides to the drawstrings of his pants. 

“Please.” Said the blond in a soft voice, his small smile never faltering. Ryou hesitated for a brief moment then finally relented, dropping his hands back down to his sides. He released an unsteady breath as the other progressed with his disrobing. 

The slightly too large trousers were pulled down past his hips and down his legs which revealed all of Ryou to the two in front of him. He flushed a brilliant shade of pink as he made a feeble attempt to cover himself to maintain his purity. The two looked at each other and nodded as he was then guided to the steps that led into the water. With a tentative step he immersed himself in the scolding liquid, his skin turning red. A small yelp escaped from his mouth as his body tried desperately to adjust to the blistering temperature.

“It’s too hot, my skin is on fire!” The tri-color haired boy ignored the exclamation as he lathered a small cloth and began work cleaning Ryou’s body. With each rub of the cloth his already sensitive skin ached from the friction it caused. It was becoming difficult for Ryou to contain the pain he was experiencing as his face contorted with every scrub, his eyes clamped shut in order to block out the sensation.

“My apologies, but we have specific orders from His Majesty to ensure you are fresh and untainted from the filth of the outside before you are brought to him.” The blond took a small jar and poured its contents onto his hand. The liquid was thick and smelled strongly of flowers. He rubbed his hands together quickly causing the liquid to lather and he began to run his fingers through Ryou’s hair, making sure every strand was coated. Ryou flinched, becoming more uncomfortable. The taller took immediate notice and decided to help ease the tension. 

“What’s your name?” He was sure to be gentle with Ryou as he massaged his scalp, helping him relax into his kneading. He felt his tension release and he sunk down into the water to the frustration of the youngest that was nearly finished with his washing. As Ryou’s body went further into the water he noticed that he must have gotten used to the temperature as it no longer stung, but instead felt quite comfortable. 

“My name’s Ryou. What’s yours?”

“My name is Marik, and this is Yugi.” He gestured to the small servant trying to finish his task. “We seldom get addressed by these names since being placed into servitude to the King. Nowadays they just summon us by vague gestures or whatever they feel necessary.” 

“That’s terrible, not using your God given names and being forced into servitude. How do you two cope? Not to be rude, but from what I’ve seen thus far you don’t seem to be bothered with it at all.” Marik snorted as Yugi looked at him with cautious eyes.

“It didn’t come naturally if I am to be completely honest. At least in my case when I was brought here a couple years ago it took me a long while to learn my place. Where I came from we were taught to stand up and fight for what we believed in or die trying. I fought tooth and nail to break free from this place and often ended up a bloodied mess on the floor, but my determination never wavered. Once they realized that they weren’t getting anywhere with me they changed their tactics. It didn’t take long before I couldn’t take it anymore; I just didn't have any fight left in me. So I accepted my fate, and here I am.”

“They didn’t kill you? But why?” Marik’s smile faltered briefly but he quickly adjusted himself, giving Ryou a devilish smirk. 

“Let’s just say I have friends in low places.” Ryou didn’t like the sound of that mixed with the look on Marik’s face. However he didn’t want to think too much of it, whatever it was that kept Marik alive Ryou was grateful for. He shifted his gaze to Yugi who had remained silent. 

“What about you, Yugi? How did you find your way here?” The youngest said nothing; taking the cloth he had used to wash Ryou and discarding it into the laundry bin. Marik chuckled lightly. 

“I wouldn’t expect too much out of him, Ryou. As diligent as he is with his work he makes a lousy work mate.” Ryou couldn’t help but let out a small chortle at the thought of being labeled “workmates” in their current situation, but he supposed that was one way of looking at it. His heart did go out to him though, wondering what happened in Yugi’s life to make him this way. 

“How long have you two been working together?”

“About a year give or take. It’s been great having someone to talk to even if he doesn’t say much. I’m sure without him I would have lost my mind by now, trapped in my own thoughts, memories.” He trailed off as he took a basin and rinsed the soap out of Ryou’s hair. 

“You’re lucky you two have each other to fall back on to make this life bearable. In all honesty I don’t think I will ever get used to this place regardless of who is with me. It’s dark, evil, so far away from the warmth of God. My entire life I have been taught to stay away from demons, that the angels would protect me in my time of need. But now, what do I do now? They are all gone. Whom do I pray to for hope and guidance?” Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes as Marik looked on in pity. 

“There is no one left, they have all forsaken us.” Yugi grabbed one of the towels and motioned for Ryou to stand. “Prayers won't help you, no one will save you, not anymore. You need to realize that you can no longer put your faith blindly in the hands of others. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be.” 

“Yugi…” 

“Say that I’m wrong, Marik! Say there’s a chance that one day we’ll be freed from this literal hellhole and we will no longer have to suffer like this. It’s been years and you yourself admitted to accepting your fate for the sake of survival. Now he comes along and all the sudden you’re going to sympathize with him and say there is hope? Please.” He looked at Ryou with eyes that held such a fury that it took boys off guard. 

“You’re going to be thrown into a theoretical lion's den with that beast. He will tear you apart until you’re broken and bleeding in his sheets, and if you survive he’ll do it again tomorrow and then the next day, and the day after that. No one is going to help you here, your best bet is to do whatever he says in order to survive like Marik and I have.” The towel that Yugi wrapped Ryou in was warm but did nothing for his nerves. Marik stared on at Yugi, visually upset at the sudden outburst but ultimately let it drop. There was no use starting a fight here, not when they had the task at hand and their time was running out. 

Meanwhile Ryou’s mind was spinning. At first he thought that he would be merely a slave, something for the King to order around, degrade and abuse. Not in his wildest dreams had Ryou thought he would be servicing the demon this way. 

His mind, heart and body were pure. Throughout his upbringing he was taught to devote himself to the Lord and never give into temptation, which Ryou practiced diligently. He had never once given into the enticements of those back at the village, which there were many. It wasn’t uncommon for females and males alike to come up to Ryou and confess their feelings, he was attractive and his striking features made him a beacon amongst the common folk. However, no matter how many had tried to tempt him, he was committed to his teachings to remain chaste until he one day found that special someone to share his life, love, and body with. To come to the realization that all of it would be torn away from him was almost too much to bear. 

“I’m…” trembling fingers held onto the towel for dear life, droplets falling from his silvery locks as he stood in the middle of the ornate room. The blond looked at him as he went to grab another towel. 

“I’m sorry?” Gently he started drying Ryou’s hair, making sure not to knot it too much. Yugi grabbed the additional set of clothes that were set amongst the cushions. From what Ryou saw they looked similar to what the two where wearing, however instead of gold it was replaced with silver, which complimented his completion. 

Ryou managed to find his voice.

“I-I’m scared.” At the admission his tears fell. He brought his hands up and covered his face as he let out a sob attempting to dry his tears, coming to terms with the situation. He knew what was coming, and there was no way to stop it. Just like it was for the demon that had brought him here, begging the King to let him go would be a wasted endeavor. He thought that maybe he should have had the General kill him; it would have been a better fate than what awaited him here. 

“You should be. Here is some advice for you from past conquests that didn’t have the luxury of a warning. One, keep your mouth shut when he is talking to you and listen to what he has to say. Interrupting the King is a death sentence. Two, don’t look at him directly in the eyes, it’s a sign of disrespect. Humans are beneath him and his kind in every way, you don’t deserve to meet his gaze. Three, and this is the most important, do what you’re told no matter what order he gives. If he tells you to go to him, you go. If he wants to hear you scream, you scream. Don't fight his advances; it’s useless in the end. You may think that you can be saved by a swift death, but he knows that’s what you want.” Yugi leaned in closer to Ryou’s ear. “It’s not about you and your wants, it’s all about him.”

His words sent chills throughout Ryou’s body. 

Once fully dried he was quickly decorated in new threads and adornments. He looked at the jewelry he was placed in; he never wore something so beautiful. Marik and Yugi took a step back, admiring their handy work. Now all that was left was to deliver him.

As Marik and Yugi guided him through the halls of the palace, Ryou prayed. He prayed for the angels to return to save him, to spare his innocence from what awaited behind the King’s chamber doors. This wasn’t what was planned for Ryou. This wasn’t his destiny. The angels he prayed to never would have let this happen. But that was then, and this was now. There were no more guardian angels, no one left to answer the prayers of the helpless, and no one to save him from his impending fate. 

Ryou looked up with glossy eyes at the giant double doors. Marik raised his hand and knocked twice, signaling their arrival.

“Enter.” The smooth voice echoed as the doors swung wide, beckoning the boy inside. His eyes glanced to Marik and then to Yugi as if pleading for them to intervene at the last possible moment, but to his dismay both kept their heads down. It was Yugi who swiftly moved behind him, pushing his body into the room as Marik quickly shut the doors, effectively trapping Ryou inside as a deep snicker reverberated throughout the enclosed space making Ryou’s hair stand on end. 

As the doors slammed shut Ryou hit the ground with a thud, his jewelry clanking off of the marble. Cautiously he shifted his weight onto his arms, legs too weak to support him as his body was racked with fear. He trembled as his head pivoted back and forth around the room frantically taking in his surroundings. 

Shadows danced in the flickering candlelight that illuminated only a small portion of the room, the daylight being blocked out by heavy drapes. While he couldn’t see much of his current accommodations, he was able to make out the candelabrum that rested on a side table along with a decanter filled with a liquid that Ryou couldn’t identify, paired with a tall champagne flute that hadn’t quite been emptied.

Next to the table was a very large canopy bed. It was thick, sturdy and draped in long flowing fabrics with a multitude of patterns sewn throughout. They matched the bedspread, black velvet with red embroidery accented with plush pillows of different shapes and sizes. Although beautiful the way the light reflected off of the canopy unnerved Ryou even more as it was like a spotlight, revealing the bed that would be his stage in which he was expected to perform. 

He looked on in awe until the mattress dipped due to a shift in weight. From within the hanging textiles obscured from the flames emerged two glowing red orbs accompanied by the same snicker that welcomed him. Spiked silver hair materialized followed by a handsome face adorned with a wicked grin that displayed sharpened fangs. The glowing eyes dimmed into a deep burgundy, heavy lidded with lust as the demon crawled from the shadows, his unrelenting gaze never leaving the frightened boy who cowered on the floor.

Ryou gasped in panic, his fight or flight response kicking in against his better judgment.   
There he sat, the beast, looking upon him like a predator stalking its prey getting ready to pounce for the kill. He was hungry and the little lamb that shivered before him would satisfy him, if only for the night. The look reflected in the demon’s eyes filled Ryou with shock. He could no longer recall the warnings, the only lifeline he had to survive his ordeal, all that came to mind was to run and get as far away from this creature as possible. 

He scurried backward until his back hit the large doors that barred him in, pulling his legs into his chest as his doe like eyes darted across the room, clouded by his crystalline tears. His captor called unto him, summoning him to the monster’s stage.

“Come to me, my little dove.” His voice poured from his mouth, smooth like fine bourbon as he motioned for Ryou to come join him with a clawed hand. The gesture in itself was harmless, but the implication that it brought weighed heavy on Ryou.

‘Do what you’re told.’ Yugi’s voice echoed through his mind bringing along with it a momentary sense of self-preservation. There was a way to survive this; to his dismay he needed to give into the fiend's demands. Follow the rules established from the bloodshed of the previous victims and he would be granted another day: another day to live, another day to deny the devil, another day to feel the warmth of God. 

Using the doors for support and with all of the courage he could muster, he slowly lifted himself off of the floor. He blinked out the tears that clouded his vision and straightened his posture, head down, hands folded as they sat on his chest. 

“Y-your Ma-jaesty.” The distance from where he stood to where the Monarch sat seemed like miles away as he advanced, the pads of his feet beating the ground softly with each tentative step. He kept his focus toward the ground, keeping in mind not to look into those crimson eyes that were fixated on him. He reached the edge of the mattress and stopped, awaiting his next command. A contented purr came from the hellion. 

“Very good. Now come up here and join me.” 

Lifting up one leg he hoisted himself up as was instructed, sinking into the plush mattress. Timidly he caressed the comforter, the fabric soft underneath his fingertips, nothing like what Ryou had ever felt before. His hand trailed up enjoying the textures until leather clad legs came into view in which he froze, his gaze still cast downward. A soft chuckle came from the unholy creature before him as his weight shifted once again, closing the gap between them. 

A cold hand grasped the smaller’s chin lifting it upward, forcing him to look deep into eyes that were ablaze with desire. Another hand snuck up a slender stomach, decorated with the bruise from previous abuse. A mere brush against it made Ryou wince, as it was still tender to the touch. This did not go unnoticed as Bakura savored his discomfort. He didn’t stop there; drawing his hand upward he felt the smooth, pale skin of his chest decorated with a silver necklace accented with one of the Demon’s symbols. His neck was thin and delicate, sharp eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to its beauty, the urge to bite down and drink the liquid underneath was almost too strong to ignore. 

Ryou sat, a soft blush forming across his cheeks from the intimate attention he received. His eyelids closed partially and he attempted to calm himself, praying that his facial expression didn’t betray him. He didn’t want to be touched by this creature; he wanted to run far away from this place and never look back. But what he wanted didn’t matter.

“Such a bashful little human you are. One would think that you had never experienced the touch of another like this, is that it?” A weak breath hitched which told him everything he needed to know. 

“Ah, what a lovely gift I had been given.” He withdrew and went to the side table, lifting the decanter and pouring its contents into the used glass. He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip, reveling in the flavor. Ryou looked on questioningly, wondering what it was that swirled around in the container. Bakura pulled the glass away and offered it to the inquisitive lad. 

“Red wine, a favorite of mine.” He looked on toward the youth, chocolate orbs eyeing the wine that glistened in the glass resting between his fingertips. “Curious on its taste?” Ryou nodded his head slightly. “I thought so. Surely they didn’t have anything like this in that dump you called a town.” It was obvious that he was tempted, and who was Bakura to say no? With a wicked grin he urged the other to come closer.

“Here, take a sip. You will not certainly die.” Ryou timidly brought his head closer to the crystal. The remaining gap was closed as the demon tilted the flute and its content flooded past plush lips and down his throat. The taste was bitter and caused Ryou to abruptly pull back in a coughing fit. Bakura let out a hearty laugh and he placed the delicate glass back onto the table. 

“I see, not to your liking is it? I guess it can’t be helped, it’s an acquired taste after all.” The boy held his hand over his mouth to stifle his coughing fit. A long slender hand grabbed on to his wrist, pulling and twisting him so his back was against the Sovereign’s chest in a firm hold. A pointed nose burrowed into soft hair as he inhaled the sweet scent. 

“After all of my years of consuming it, do you know what I found that helps improve the flavor?” Ryou’s hair was pulled roughly, claws scraping his scalp as blood fell freely. His head jerked back as warm breath traveled up the side of his neck. Sharp fangs came crashing down into Ryou as he howled in pain. Bakura sucked, drinking the ruby liquid that ran from the wound. The taste was sweet and as it descended down his throat, he felt himself getting hard. This was it; this is what he was waiting for. He wanted to bleed this angelic creature dry and rip away his innocence until he was a shell of his former self. His cock throbbed as it brushed up against the youth’s lower back. 

Mighty claws dug into Ryou’s tender skin as they were dragged across his collarbone, slicing his skin and cutting through the delicate necklace that slid off his now bloodied chest. A strong hand grasped its victim’s neck and squeezed. Ryou’s eyes went wide with panic as he felt his airways constrict as he was forced downward, face first onto the mattress. Both his hair and skin stood apart from the velvet comforter; to Bakura it looked as though he was glowing. 

Ryou gasped for what little air was allowed into his lungs, fingers digging into the blankets as he began to struggle for breath. Sturdy hands released their grip allowing the other to gulp in the much-needed oxygen. Instead they found a new fixation down the flawless back to toned thighs that were slightly bent due to the angle in which his servant lay. Ryou didn’t dare to move as he felt the cloth around his waist being raised up past his hips, exposing his backside to the demon’s contained erection. 

“Pretty.” The Devil undid his belt, pulling down the zipper exposing his throbbing cock. He grabbed hold of it, giving it a couple of pumps to bring it to full mast, the tip dripping precum onto his leather clad thighs. He looked to his bedside table where the partially full glass rested as he submerged two fingers, saturating them with the liquid. Turning his attention back over to the one underneath him, he brought his wetted fingers to Ryou’s entrance, slipping one of the appendages inside. A strained moan was heard, muffled by the decorative pillows, which caused Bakura to raise his brow. 

“Oh? Do you find yourself enjoying this?” He questioned mockingly as he slipped in the second finger, scissoring them to loosen the opening. Ryou squirmed, the sensation of fingers moving inside being completely foreign to him. It was uncomfortable, made worse by the talons that grazed the muscle surrounding them. 

“No.” 

“No…” Bakura sighed as he withdrew his fingers and shifted closer to the exposed Ryou mounting him, the tip of his rod probing the ring of muscle. “Well, if you aren’t enjoying yourself now, I fear you’re going to abhor what comes next.” With that he pushed his hips forward.

“Dear God!” Ryou cried out, his voice piercing through the air around them as the demon pushed his length deep inside. It was quick, painful and Ryou could feel his walls tear from the friction. It brought him to tears. 

“God? Oh little dove just imagine! What would your God think if He saw you now, whoring yourself out to a demon?” He took but a moment to revel in the tight warmth of the one beneath him until he pulled out slowly, his cock covered in trace amounts of liquid crimson that made him grin wildly. “Since you’re so keen on conversing with Him, by all means pray to you wretched God.” He dug his nails deeper into Ryou’s hips, causing him to yelp in pain. 

Small hands gripped the sheets so tightly that the knuckles turned white as he fought to catch the breath he was holding in an effort to not cry out in agony. He turned his head back, eyes shadowed by a veil of hair as he looked unto the King who knelt between his legs. The nails started to drag down his hips onto the sides of his thighs and back up again leaving trails of pink and red in their wake. Ryou whimpered as the body behind him shifted, looming over him resting his chin on platinum feathered strands. 

“I said,” the demon started as he repositioned himself, “Pray!”   
Pearly fangs bit harshly into Ryou’s neck while he pushed himself deep into the boy, quickly and harshly as Ryou let out a wail. His mouth lay agape as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down his cheeks, body shaking as it tried to adjust again to the intrusion. Hiccuping he found his voice, small as it was, in an attempt to acquiesce to the demand. 

“O-our Father, Who art in h-heaven, hallowed be Thy na-name;” The demon drank from him as he moved his hips, thrusting in and out with every word spoken. 

“Thy kingdom c-come; Thy will be done on, on earth as it is in heaven.” Chocolate eyes were clamped shut as Bakura released his incisors from Ryou’s neck. He lifted himself while he continued his assault, raking his talons down the younger’s back leaving slashes that looked like crude markings of wings. Lightened strands now stained red brushed along the newly formed markings, dragging blood trails along bruised shoulder blades with every thrust. 

“Give us this day our daily bread;” The pain from each thrust ebbed as the passageway became lubricated with the blood from the continuous cruelty bestowed upon him by the royal. The thick member slid in and out with ease, feeling the muscles within clench. 

“and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those, aargh, who trespass against us;” The demon’s thrusts became more erratic, picking up pace. His mouth was slightly agape; Ryou’s blood trickled down his chin, and onto his neck as his eyes grew clouded with ecstasy. 

“and lead us not into temptation,” Hands latched onto scarred hips in order to deepen the plunge. He was close; he could feel it bubbling up from within.

“but deliver us from evil.” His head flung back in desire as he heard the soft voice continue on. He wanted to hear more of that voice. He wanted that voice crying out and he wanted it badly.

“Finish it!” The demon cried out as he gritted his teeth and thrust against the increased tightness. His wings jutted from his back spreading wide as he grew closer over the edge. 

“Amen!” Bakura was in a state of pure euphoria as he came, filling Ryou deeply with his seed as he slowed his thrusts. The King withdrew, his cock covered in blood and semen as his wings went lax. He collapsed on the bed, body covered in perspiration making his skin glisten in the candlelight. His spiky hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead as he lay there, catching his breath. 

Ryou lay still as he felt the warmth of the elder’s semen flow down in between his thighs. The adrenaline he previously felt subsided; every tear in his skin, ever ache in his muscles cried out but he couldn’t feel a thing. His eyes remained unfocused, staring off into a darkened corner on the opposite side of the room. 

“That’s a good pet. Now, lay with me.” Broken and full of self-loathing he forced himself back to reality as he slowly lifted himself and dragged his beaten body in close to his captor. The King snaked his arm around the small waist, inhaling the copper scent that clung to him. He hummed into the wet crimson locks contently. 

“Your natural scent mixed with your blood is absolutely intoxicating,” he placed his tongue on the lower jawline and dragged it up to Ryou’s ear, licking the trail of blood that fell from his scalp that was mixed with the salt from his tears, “and it’s all mine.” 

Ryou’s eyes, vacant, retained focus on to the underside of the canopy as his tears continued to fall silently down the sides of his face. “Yes, Your Highness.” The other leered at the boy, arched his eyebrows with a lascivious grin and then settled swiftly into a deep slumber.

Ryou exhaled softly as he felt the resting breaths of the one next to him. He survived the night, but at what cost? His body was used, broken, and left bleeding within the sheets that ran along his body and between his bloodstained thighs. He could feel the Devil’s essence leak out of him as his muscles ached. He recalled stories that were told around his village of what Hell was like, where the damned go once they forsaken God and where the evildoers go to reap what they have sowed in life. He begged to God for forgiveness as he wondered what sin had been committed to deserve such a punishment, for surely this was Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience as I worked on editing this chapter. Originally this was split into two parts but I thought it flowed better combined. Please bare with me as I work on the next chapter and I apologize in advance that I don't have a set upload schedule. As always I would love to hear your feedback! Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> This is an updated version of my original fic that I was working on years ago. I never finished it but wanted to go in and give it a second chance and ride it out to completion. Let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear your feedback!


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